Dragoncrest Cliffs live and die by the gun and the knife

in better health, sobeille might have made a game of stalking after him, to see how long before he became aware of her shadow. her tread was too tired to mask, and in short order he heard her and whirled around.

amused by his low voice, and the careful way he glanced around them as if discussing something scandalous, sobeille flicked the tip of her auburn tail. she hadn’t thought to make it clear she expected delivery, and cursed her ineptitude in making this clear.

de beach? irritation flit across her face, soon after smoothed over like tablecloth hastily spread over an uneven surface. but the gulls and the tide and the beach! this was not the exhumation sobeille envisioned. fuck. recovering her exasperation, sobeille leaned in. i need de skull. de rest, you will return to ‘er grave. when done, you must mark ‘er grave with a sprig of blue fir and a broken conch she wondered if he noticed the missing rib - furthermore, had the crone that stolen it ever used it?

a slow realization came to her then, chilling her down to the bone.